It was a bit of a puzzle to me then; but now that I am older, I know that father was right. As it was, I am afraid that I was not as grieved about Jack's broken ankle as I should have been. For the next few days, at all events, I knew he would be my constant companion, for he would lie on the sofa near me.
Nothing more was said by my parents about our mysterious visitor, though, of course, Jack and I were never tired of talking about him. We made him out to be everything in turns, from a Russian nobleman to a London burglar in disguise.
Thursday evening came, and brought welcome release to the other prisoners in the tower-room; and on Friday morning my two bearers came and carried me off to the den, where we talked till it was a wonder our tongues did not ache.
They had heard nothing about the cause of Jack's accident, and great was their amazement when they were told of the stranger who knew so well the way to the tower-room.
"How long is it since this room was used?" asked Rupert.
"It has never been used that I can remember," I replied. "Mother thought it would make a good playroom for you because it is so far away. When I first came into it with her, it was thick with dust, and had nothing in it but that oak chest and this chair."
"Then I'll be bound that man knows more about it than you do," said Rupert. "You'll find out some day; I only hope it will be whilst we are here."
